Sept 1999 - Glasshouse 50mile/80km Trail Run Report

by Sean Greenhill"If you run on the road, we will disqualify you. This is a TRAIL race."

Race Director Ian Javes showed that this was a run for hardcore trail
junkies only on a chilly Saturday morning, his voice coming out of a grey
twilight. A dry chuckle came from the throats of a few of the 12 Hundred
Mile and 11 Fifty Mile starters, breaking the ice. I was surprised- I was
nowhere near as nervous as I thought I would be a few minutes before my
first attempt at a Fifty Mile. Within a couple of minutes, the hundred mile
starters were off, trotting slowly across the oval at the Glasshouse
Mountains Sportsground. In fifteen more minutes, it would be my turn.

I had left work about 7pm on Wednesday night, and from there drove to Scone
on the first night, and did the rest of the haul on Thursday. My mother had,
a few weeks before, offered to chauffeur me- until then I had planned to
catch a bus then train- there was no way I was going to drive after running
80K. On the Friday, I had walked almost as far as the second Checkpoint and
back, all of which was on a dirt track alongside Glasshouse Mountains Road.
I ended up with a bad sunburn, so on Friday night I found a hotel teatowel
and pinned it to my cap so it draped over my neck. That night there was a
dinner at the Sportsground for runners, which coincided with a fairly noisy
rodeo. I spotted the Tillers (Kevin was doing the Fifty Mile, Dawn was doing
the 55K), and met Melanie Jonker, plus Carol La Plant from the US. Paul
Every, who has run for Australia in several World 100K Championships and won
the 3 day Canberra Ultra Triathlon, was also there. His recent training had
been "Cities Marathon a month ago, an Ironman a fortnight ago, and that's
it."

In the chill of Saturday morning, I was at the Sportsground around 4.45 for
my medical check, which consisted of recording my weight, blood pressure and
pulse and writing them on a medical tag which I wore around my wrist.
Checkpoint Five, visited three times during the Fifty Mile loop (and thus
six times by Hundred Mile runners) involves a medical check where these same
details are recorded again and compared to the pre race numbers. If you lose
two kilos, they hold you at the station until you hydrate enough to regain
the lost weight. Amongst the Hundred Mile starters were two Striders who
tied for first place in last years Fifty Mile, Mike Ward and Martin Fryer.

At 5.45, the eleven Fifty Mile starters were off, with the Hundred Mile
relay teams. I ran to checkpoint two with Poh Suan Neumann, who has done a
number of the Glasshouse runs and spent most of the time trying to convince
me to run next years Comrades. She found it hard to comprehend I wasn't
interested! After checkpoint ne, which was on the roadside track, we ran
through the silent town of Beerburrum then up the slope of Mount Beerburrum.
Fifty Milers run halfway up (where checkpoint two is) and Hundred Milers run
to the top. Kevin Tiller came charging town the other way like a bull at a
gate, then a few minutes later came Mike and Martin. I walked down
Beerburrum to protect my ITB and Poh Suan slowly drew away. Behind me I had
Melanie Jonker and Hundred Miler Kerrie Hall. Both were walking, so I was
the last runner.

After checkpoint two we ran through a series of pine plantations, winding
our way through on a series of logging roads. The surface was fairly flat
here. The sun was out, but there was not yet a hint of how hot the day was
to become. I entered checkpoint three, refilled one of my three bottles with
water and another with Gatorade, took two GUs and set off for the next
stretch, through some scrubby bush. Twenty metres down the track I saw a red
car ahead. "What? Checkpoint four already?" No, it was actually a car that
had been stolen, dumped here in the bush and stripped clean. I stepped
around it and a few minutes later reemerged onto logging roads. From here I
could see the bizarre monoliths of almost all the Glasshouse Mountains,
actually the remains of extinct volcanoes. Some of them seemed so far away
it was intimidating to think I would be running around them before the day
was done. I went through checkpoint four, about 20K into the race. It was
staffed by the same two crew as checkpoint one. I refilled my bottles,
grabbed a handful of jelly babies and headed onto a fire trail.

Checkpoint five, the medical check, was at a lookout atop a ridge. After
following some twisting fire road, I was running toward a high ridge with a
turret atop it. That looks like the checkpoint, I thought, then added,
"geez, that's pretty high". After a while, the fire trail became a quite
technical path, with sections of mud, eroded ruts, very steep and sudden up
and downs. It seemed we were winding round the ridge, not going up it.
Though this section was mostly shaded, a few open sections brought the heat
down on my back. It reminded me of climbing the Pluviometer in 30C during
this years Six Foot Track. After some rugged climbing I emerged onto a
gravel road and the roofs of checkpoint five were on my right. I ran over
and stood on the scales.

Jeez.

I had been running for about three and a half hours, and drunk six 800ml
bottles of fluid, but had already lost a kilo. I refilled my bottles, took
two packs of potato chips from my drop bag, and set off toward the "Goat
Track" which leads to checkpoint six. This is very technical running, in
some spots almost a bush bash. I had some minor cramps on the sudden
downhills, so I walked most of this section. By the time I emerged on a road
and jogged down to six, I had drunk two and a bit bottles of fluid. In the
station (crewed by four cadets) I spent a few minutes joking with a relay
team member. I probably joked too much, because I took the wrong way out of
the checkpoint- there is one leading towards an out and back with seven en
route, and another back to five which the runners take after returning to
six. I took this latter and ran for about ten minutes before realising my
error. On the way back I passed Paul Every, who had already done the out and
back. He pointed the right way to go. I had lost twenty minutes, and passed
Kerrie Hall on the way out. A number of runners were coming back to me,
including Bill Thompson, Carol, Mike and Martin. This was a long, hot
technical stretch, seven kilometres in dry heat that was becoming stifling.
About a kilometre short of the checkpoint, I saw a familiar figure.

When Kevin Tiller gets into trouble while running, his head goes down so you
just see his red hair, his shoulders hunch right up, and his little legs
shuffle along doggedly, slowly but surely. Hundred Mile finisher Geoffrey
Blyth did a good impersonation of this posture on Sunday at the post race
lunch, and I saw it coming towards me now. Kevin said he wasn't feeling too
good suddenly, and we stood and talked for a good five minutes before I left
for seven. At that checkpoint a grabbed a handful of sandwiches, refilled my
three bottles and was off for a 4K loop around a pine plantation that ended
with a return to seven and then back to six. Within a few minutes of leaving
seven I was walking. With no shelter on the logging roads, the heat (it was
now after 12pm) almost stopped me dead. I walked that section, and shuffled
back into seven declaring it was the toughest part of the course. Returning
along the 7K section to checkpoint six, I ran most of the way, drinking
constantly. After leaving six to return to five, we ran along more logging
roads without shelter, and I was walking along again. I didn't feel tired,
just darned hot and generally "stuff this lark". At five, I had covered
roughly fifty kilometres and my weight had gone up by half a kilo. I was
pleased I was hydrating properly, but as I was changing my socks Rainer
Neumann, Poh Suan's husband who was doing the Hundred, came in having done
the next section, a long loop around Mount Beerwah. He was really feeling
the heat and remarked "I'll finish the loop, then talk to the doctors down
there to see if there is any point going on."

Heading out towards Beerwah (and checkpoint eight which is on the far side)
I passed Mike, Martin and Geoffrey trudging up the forest road towards me.
"Gentlemen," I hailed, "what's it like?" "Christ, don't ask!"came the reply.
I asked if there was any shelter, and was told there was. I thought the loop
after seven was the toughest point until now, but the section around Beerwah
to eight actually was. This was another section of technical trails with
lots of suden ups and downs and seemed to head away from Beerwah as much as
it was heading towards it. Supposedly this was 8K, but I was thinking,
"Christ, how long can 8K be???", especially given the fierce heat which was
now penetrating the trees. After a while I emerged onto a dirt road. "This
must be eight up here," I thought, but it kept going until I finally
shuffled into the checkpoint with quads trashed from the constant elevation
change and feeling a bit irritable with things. I was told Kevin was an hour
and a half ahead, so he must have staged quite a recovery. By now it was
four thirty and the shadows were drawing long. I left eight and started
trudging slowly down the road, making no effort to increase my pace. I was
sitting on the side of the road emptying stones from my shoes when Kerrie
Hall came by. With her help, encouragement and occasional beration, we did
the seven kilometres back to five just as the sun set. From here, it's a run
back down the ridge (about 7K) to checkpoint one, then the 4K back to the
Sportsground for the fifty miles. The Hundred Milers had to do it all again.
Kerrie had her medical check first then set out with a torch.

I had mine, then rummaged through my drop bag for the torch I KNEW I had put
in there the night before. After a few minutes, I realised I was looking
like a fool in front of the staff, so with a "righto" I grabbed my bottles
and charged out, my legs feeling 200% better than they did after eight (I
later found the torch buried at the bottom of the bag). I was able to follow
the fire road we were on quite well at first, then the twilight vanished and
the moonlight (it was a full moon) started playing visual tricks, lighting
up tree trunks in a similar way to the white marking tape Ian used on the
course. The clouds started to move in and I had real trouble finding the
way. On a technical section climbing over a ridge in almost pitch darkness I
fell and slid. I made a few right guesses at trail junctions, and in the
distance I could hear the traffic of Glasshouse Mountains Road but it never
seemed to get closer. Combined with the tricks of the moonlight, it made for
a terrifying and disorienting experience for someone who has never even run
a trail at night with a torch. Eventually, charging down a fire trail at
full speed, I caught up with Kerrie and her torch again. From there it was
about a kilometre to one, and we turned onto the roadside track at a fast
walk for the haul in.

Kerrie kept checking my watch for the cutoff which Ian had for the Hundred
Milers to commence the second loop, and with a few minutes to go, coming
down the road on the opposite side to the Sportsground, she loaned me her
torch and took off in a sprint. She made the cutoff with a couple of minutes
to spare, and went on to do the Hundred in just a few minutes over 30 hours.
Meanwhile, I ran slowly opposite the ground towards the undepass at the far
end. I muttered out loud, "Jesus, I'm going to finish,", and as I crossed
under the road and headed back along the oval fence I shed a tear or two.
Then I trotted under the finish gate in a time of 14.06.56 and was directed
to a chair for my final medical. I ate some bananas, talked to my mother and
the staff, and thanked Ian for all his effort. Then I left for the motel,
suddenly almost unable to walk any more.

The next day I felt surprisingly good- my ankles were sore and I had a few
king sized blisters, but the legs were pretty good. At the awards lunch, it
turned out Kevin finished in 13.04 or so, Melanie in 14.46 odd. Dawn Tiller
won the 55K women's, just a few minutes behind the lead man. Paul Every won
the Hundred Mile, the first man to do the course in under 24 hours. Rainer
Neumann was second and Geoffrey Blyth third. Winner of the Hundred for the
last two years Graham Medill dropped out, as did Mike Ward (going into the
medical for the first time on the second loop, his blood pressure had
dropped suddenly and he pulled the pin) and Martin Fryer also dropped after
about 130K. Six from twelve did the Hundred. Hopefully next year it might
be me.

Ian also outlined that the race was having difficulty the the relevant
Government authorities, having decreed in future it must be insured for $100
million. This "would kill the race," he said. It's a race that needs all the
support in terms of lobbying and attendance it can get. Ian puts in a hell
of a lot of work to make sure it's run properly, and the course is extremely
scenic, touring through the mountains. Running around the mountains, rather
than over them, is a nice touch that adds considerably to the scenery, and
there are still enough climbs to appeal to the mountain goats out there. As
Australia's only trail Hundred Mile, it's a benchmark in this country's
ultrarunning, and there will be more and more international entrants if it
survives. Next year, put one of the Glasshouse Trail runs on your calendar.